PREFACE.

Having resolved to employ myself, during a prolonged residence in

Portugal, in writing some work of fiction on that country, it struck me

that the Times of the Marquis of Pombal would afford a good subject,

untouched, as it is, by any other author. For a considerable time I

delayed commencing my undertaking, almost in despair of finding the

necessary materials. I wrote frequently to Lisbon to procure

information, and mentioned my purpose to several Portuguese friends,

who, at length, put at my disposal all the documents they possess

relating to the private history of their families. From them I have

composed the following work.

I enjoyed, also, free access to the public Library at Oporto, a

magnificent establishment, containing many thousand volumes, in all

languages. Nor must I omit to mention the courteous attention I

received from Senhor Gandra, the chief Librarian, in aiding me in my

search for the works I required. Here I found several valuable volumes,

in French and Italian, relating to the administration of the Marquis of

Pombal, and the intrigues of the Jesuits; and some, in Portuguese,

giving an account of the earthquake.

The Library is established in a large building, formerly the Convent of

S. Lazaro, the principal room vying in size and elegance with any of

which the first cities in Europe can boast. There are, also, numerous

other apartments, occupying the entire floor of the edifice, now crowded

with books, which it will take many years to arrange.

My history commences in the summer of 1755, the year of the great

earthquake of Lisbon, some time before which period, the weak, bigoted,

and profligate King John the Fifth of Portugal, after allowing his

country to sink into a state bordering on ruin, had finished his

pernicious reign, and worthless life, being succeeded by his son, Joseph

the First.

Though in the character of Joseph there appears to have been, in some

respects, but a slight improvement over that of his father, he was

certainly less superstitious; while he possessed the valuable quality of

appreciating the talents of others, which caused him to select as his

adviser, Sebastiao Joseph de Carvalho, afterwards created Marquis of

Pombal, one of the most energetic men his country has ever produced.

Carvalho was now at the head of the administration, and had begun that

system of reform, (which ended but with his fall from power,) although

he had not then succeeded in gaining that implicit confidence of his

sovereign which he afterwards possessed. For the particulars of the

history and state of the country antecedent to the time I speak of, I

refer my readers to the introduction to the "Memoirs of Pombal," lately

published, written by the Secretary to the Marquis of Saldanha, Mr

Smith, though in many points I differ from that gentleman in the view he

takes of the great Minister's character and actions.

The Marquis of Saldanha is a descendant of Pombal; and his Secretary has

naturally been biassed in favour of his patron's ancestor. The only

book he appears to have consulted, besides the documents in the State

Paper Office, is that above-mentioned, which I have before me, in

Portuguese, though written originally in French, by an admirer of the

Minister. Mr Smith's work did not reach me at Oporto, until my own

manuscript had been forwarded to England; which circumstance I mention,

to exonerate myself from any appearance of ingratitude in speaking thus

of a person of whose labours I might be supposed to have taken

advantage. When any similarity appears, we have drawn from the same

source.

To excuse the barbarous executions of some of the first nobility in

Portugal, Mr Smith says, that some of equal cruelty have taken place in

France and Germany. To show that the complaints made by the victims of

the Minister's iron policy, who crowded the prisons, were unjust, he

cites a memoir, in manuscript, written in prison, by the unfortunate

Marquis d'Alorna, who, he says, makes querulous complaints of not having

his linen changed sufficiently often, though he had frequent intercourse

with his family.

I have perused an exact copy of the MS. Mr Smith has seen, if not the

identical one. In it, the unhappy Marquis speaks indignantly of the

dark, narrow, and damp cell which was his abode in the Junguiera prison

for many years, he being scarcely supplied with the common necessaries

of life, while the Marchioness was confined in some other equally

wretched place, separated from her children, who were distributed in

different convents. The husband states that he received one letter from

his wife, written with her left hand, she having lost the use of her

right side from a rheumatic complaint, brought on by the dampness of her

lodging. A year or so afterwards another reached him, written by

holding the pen in her mouth, she having then lost the use of both her

hands. This was the sort of free intercourse the Minister allowed, and,

it must be remembered, neither were found guilty of any crime. The

Marquis mentions the history of many of his fellow-prisoners, several of

whom died in prison; and, he states, after some years' confinement, by

means of bribes, they were able to obtain some communication with their

friends from without. In the body of the work will be found many

details from the MSS. I have spoken of.

Mr Smith does not inform his readers, when mentioning the outbreak at

Oporto, in consequence of the formation of the obnoxious Wine Company,

that not only the wine-sellers rose up in arms, but that the

wine-growers, who, it was pretended, were to be benefited, marched into

Oporto, and demanded its abolition; nor that, when the troops arrived

from Lisbon to quell the revolt, the city was given up to their

unbridled license, the chief magistrate and sixteen principal citizens

having been executed, while the prisons were crowded with others.

Once established, with its blood-stained charter, a post in the Company

was considered one of the most valuable rewards the Minister could

bestow for services performed for him, his own immense fortune having

been acquired, indirectly, through that very Company. Mr Smith affirms

that the wealth to which the Minister's eldest son succeeded was left

him by various members of his family; but, as his family were

universally known to be poor, such it is difficult to believe was the

case. Mr Beckford, in his Diary in Portugal, laughs at the young

Count, for having endeavoured, during the whole course of a morning

visit, to persuade him that his father had never attempted to amass a

fortune. Pombal, on retiring from office, left the treasury rich; but

that is no proof that he had not taken care to supply his own chests by

any means which he considered justifiable. One can scarcely wonder at

his acting as was so generally the custom.

The aim of these Memoirs of Pombal is to throw a halo of glory over his

life and actions, of which he was undeserving. The Minister is compared

in them, as he was fond of comparing himself, to Sully. I do not make

these observations unjustly to depreciate this work; but that I may not

be accused of unfairly portraying a man whose really great qualities I

duly appreciate; nor have I described him as performing one action that

is not well authenticated. I am not a greater friend to the system of

the Jesuits than is Mr Smith; but do not wish to abuse them for the

sake of exhibiting the Minister in brighter colours.

Pombal, like Napoleon, was never prevented from doing what he considered

necessary to forward his own views either political or private, by any

laws, human or divine. His motto was, _Quid volo quid jubeo_.

March, 1845.

Volume 1, Chapter I.

Joyous and sparkling waves were leaping up from the deep blue expanse of

the vast Atlantic, as if to welcome a gallant vessel, which glided

rapidly onward in all the pride of beauty. Her broad spread of white

canvass, extended alow and aloft, shining brightly in the sunbeams; she

looked like a graceful swan, a being of life and instinct, floating on

the waste of waters, her head turned towards the coast of fair

Lusitania; her bourne, from which she was as yet far distant, being the

majestic Tagus. A fresh summer breeze filled her swelling sails, now

favouring her like friendship in prosperity, but which would, probably,

when the sun sank beneath the ocean, fall away, as friends too often do

from those whose sun has set in adversity. A broad white flag

emblazoned with the arms of Portugal, floating from her peak, and the

long pendants which fluttered from her mastheads, showed that she

belonged to the royal navy of that country; and, by the number of guns

she carried, she appeared to be a well-armed vessel of her class; but

the abundance of gilding and bright paint with which she was in every

part decorated, betokened her to be intended more for show or pleasure,

than for the rough work of actual service. She was a ship very similar

to what we now call a corvette, having a single battery of long heavy

guns, and a high-raised deck at the aftermost part, on which was placed

an armament of small brass pieces and swivel-guns, with a few pieces of

the same calibre on her topgallant-forecastle; so that, although her

purposes might in general have been peaceful, she was, if properly

manoeuvred, fully able to make a stout resistance against any vessel

under the class of a large frigate.

Several persons were walking the deck, one of whom, by the air of

undisputed authority which sat well upon him, as he paced the starboard

side, was evidently the commander; and near him appeared a young and

handsome man in the costume of a civilian; while the rest of the party,

who kept respectfully on the opposite side of the ship, were composed of

the lieutenants and other officers belonging to her.

The young man had for some time been standing on the break of the poop,

leaning over the rail, and eagerly looking out in the direction towards

which the ship was bending her course; his thoughts, perhaps, far

outstripping his own tardy progress, and rejoicing in the happiness of

again meeting parents, kindred, or friends; or it may have been, that

some feelings yet more tender occupied his bosom. He was aroused from

his reveries, whatever might have been their tenour, by a no very gentle

touch on the back; and, turning round, he beheld the captain of the

ship. "What, my young friend!" said the latter, in a clear, cheerful

tone of voice, "not yet tired of gazing on the dark blue line of the

horizon, as if you expected to see the shores of Lusitania leap out of

the water by magic, and would fain not miss the first view of our loved

home? Well! well! Such is youth, always eager and enthusiastic,

fancying itself near its object, though as yet far distant, and, like a

young puppy, or a baby, unable to measure distances, till, by constant

practice, and by many a fall, it has learned to discover the true

situations of objects."

The speaker was a man who had somewhat passed the meridian of life, his

hair already turning grey, and his good-natured, well-formed features

considerably furrowed and bronzed by exposure to hot climes and stormy

weather.

"What, Senhor Pinto, shall we not see the land to-day?" inquired the

youth, in a tone of disappointment. "I thought we were close to it, and

have been looking out for it all the morning."

"So I have observed," answered the Captain, "but was unwilling to break

down unnecessarily all those castles in the air which I saw you so

busily occupied in building; however, I must now tell you that, from the

thick weather and fogs which have for so many days attended us, we are

rather out of our reckoning; and it was early this morning we

discovered, by an observation, that we are yet considerably to the

northward of our latitude."

"How tantalising!" returned the youth. "I had hoped that by this hour

to-morrow we should have been safely moored in the Tagus."

"Hope! Ah, 'tis a feeling in which youth may sometimes indulge with

advantage, as it oft carries him through difficulties and

disappointments, on his first setting out on the voyage of life, which

might otherwise have made him turn back into harbour; but it often, too,

proves a sad _ignis fatuus_, and, like a false light to the mariner,

leads him on to quicksands and rocks, where it leaves him in the lurch.

Now, an old sailor like myself is not to be deceived; and it is long

since I gave up hoping; consequently, I am never led astray by such

false lights. I find the surest way of being contented is, never to

expect anything, and I then can never be disappointed, but receive as a

Godsend, and be thankful for, each piece of luck that falls in my way.

That is what I call philosophy."

"But, my dear sir!" returned the other, with animation, "you thus stifle

one of the most noble, the most glorious principles of our nature, the

very mainspring of our actions, without which we should weakly yield to

the first blast of misfortune which assailed us; it supports the lover

in his long absence from his mistress, the prisoner in his dungeon, the

mother watching o'er her child, the sick man on his bed of suffering:

'twas hope which a kind Heaven bestowed on man when sin and death were

introduced into the world, to prevent his sinking into abject dejection.

Take all else from me, but teach me not to cease to hope."

"Nay, nay, my dear Don Luis, you misunderstand me; I would not deprive

you of that which you so warmly cherish on any account," returned

Captain Pinto; "I wish merely to warn you that the object of your hopes

may be like one of those beautiful islands we used to hear of, covered

with glittering temples and palaces of crystal, but with which no

cruiser ever came up, though some have sailed half round the globe,

thinking each day they must drop an anchor in one of their tempting

harbours. I've seen such sights in my time, but I never altered my

course for them, and never intend to do so."

"Ah, you can never, then, have experienced the glowing, eager sensation

of hope almost accomplished," exclaimed Don Luis earnestly, "when a few

more days or hours will place the longed-for object within your power."

"Pardon me, but I have though," interrupted Captain Pinto; "but that was

years ago, and I then found that the picture I had conjured up always

far surpassed the reality. You forget that I too was once young, and

experienced all the sensations in which you now rejoice; but it is age

which has taught me how fallacious they are, and I can no more be

deceived by them. Now, I dare say you, in your heart, think me a sullen

old fellow, who delights in conjuring up in the horizon dark clouds, to

overcast the bright blue sky under which you bask; but you must remember

I am an old seaman, who have spent the best half of a century on the

troubled ocean in all seas and climes, and that, like a good master, I

would teach you to be prepared for the tempests and rough seas you must

encounter, and to avoid the hidden rocks and sandbanks which lie in your

course."

"Thanks, thanks, my good sir; I understand your motives," answered Don

Luis; "but I confess that I would rather you should not now darken my

horizon with either false or real clouds: it is too temptingly bright

and beautiful not to wish it so to remain."

"Well, I will give you no more lessons to-day," answered Captain Pinto;

"you have had as much as you can bear at one time; for I fear that you

are no very apt scholar. But to show you the advantage of not hoping

and fretting yourself to death for what there is little chance of

obtaining, here am I, upwards of fifty, a hale hearty fellow, though I

have only just now got the command of this little toy of a nutshell,

with which I am as contented as if I was captain of a line-of-battle

ship, and think myself very fortunate to have her; for if that great man

Sebastiao Joze de Carvalho had not become one of the King's ministers, I

should still have been an humble second lieutenant, and might have

continued so to the end of my days. How, indeed, could I expect to rise

in times of peace, with no friends at Court, no money to bribe, and

though I am noble," the old man drew himself up proudly as he

spoke,--"for otherwise I should not presume to be on such intimate terms

with you, Senhor Don Luis,--yet, I am not, I confess, of the Puritano

families, who have hitherto monopolised everything, but Carvalho is

biassed by no such considerations; he is no friend to the Puritanos; he

selects men for their merit alone, and some of that he may, I flatter

myself, have discovered in me; at all events, I may boast he knew I

would serve my country faithfully."

"Of that I have no doubt, my friend," answered Don Luis, who had been

listening to the old officer's long speech with some impatience, which,

however, he endeavoured to conceal. "But can you tell me _how_ soon we

shall reach the Tagus?"

"Ah, there again, ever anxious for the morrow? Ha, ha! there is some

greater magnetic attraction drawing your soul towards Lisbon, beyond the

mere natural wish of embracing your parents, brothers, sisters, uncles,

aunts, a whole host of cousins, and other relations and friends; for

people don't mind deferring that pleasure for a few days. Come, come,

there is some fair lady in the case. I know it. Confess, confess I

have hit it. Donna Theresa d'Alorna, for instance; the beauty of

Portugal; the pride of the province; the toast of Lisbon; at whose feet

kneel daily all the gay and gallant youths of the country to do homage

to her charms? 'Tis said that even the king himself has become captive

to her beauty, though that is only whispered; but the lady is scornful,

it seems, and treats all alike with cruelty and disdain. There is no

calculating the mischief she has committed: half-a-score of duels have

been fought about her; one youth drowned himself in the Tagus, but was

fished up before he was quite dead, the water having cooled his love;

another was going to hang himself, but prudently informed a venerable

aunt of his intention, who prevented him; and a third put a pistol to

his head, but the weapon, like his skull, having no contents, he escaped

destruction. I do not know what you will do when you have gazed on her

charms; but I trust that if she treats you as she has other admirers,

you will bring some of your hope into play, and seek a kinder mistress."

While Captain Pinto was speaking, the countenance of the youth

alternately betrayed anxiety, fear, and anger; but as no expression had

been uttered at which he could possibly cavil, he was obliged to listen

in silence to a discourse, every word of which was, to his sensitive

feelings, like vinegar poured on a wound. His torturer kept his eye

fixed on him all the time, watching each movement of his features as a

skilful surgeon feels the pulse of his patient during a painful

operation. "Yes, your unconquerable hope will stand you in good stead,"

he proceeded to say. "And yet the love of Donna Theresa were, by all

accounts, a proud thing to boast of--more valued from the difficulty of

obtaining it."

"How know you that I love her?" exclaimed Don Luis, suddenly: "I thought

that secret hidden within my own bosom."

"Think you that you could have sailed so many days with me, Joze Pinto,

and I not discover the inmost secrets of your soul? Why, every scrap of

paper with which the cabin has been strewed, covered with rhymes, has

had her name inscribed on it; in your dreams, as you swung in your cot,

even during the fiercest gale, you spoke but of her. I have heard it

whispered in the calm night breeze which brought back your sighs, and

I'll wager 'tis graven indelibly on every mast of my ship."

"You treat me severely, Captain Pinto," answered Don Luis. "Although I

may in my sleep have uttered that name so dear to me, which I have

always held sacred, for I will not deny my affection; and though I may

have written it on some paper which has escaped from my portfolio, yet I

have not converted your masts into shrines sacred to love: they are not

honoured by being marked with that name."

"Well, then, I will confess I was but trying you," answered Captain

Pinto; "I will acquit you of ever allowing even a scrap of paper with

Donna Theresa's name on it to escape from your portfolio, or of ever

having uttered it, to my knowledge, in your dreams, for I am not

addicted to remaining awake when once I turn into my cot; indeed I knew

not the lady of your affections till this minute, when I, by hazard,

mentioned her name, and you owned your secret, though I long ago

discovered your heart was not as free as I could wish it; but, seriously

speaking, my young friend, I would have you think earnestly of what I

have said, though my words sounded jokingly, and it may prove a valuable

lesson to you. I will not breathe a word against Donna Theresa in

particular; but remember numbers surround her, offering up daily incense

of sighs and flattery, so that it were madness to confide too much in

her constancy, or that of any woman so situated, and two years work

great changes in the feelings of all. Come now, try to suppose her

heartless and inconstant: 'tis better than being too sanguine; and I

should grieve to see your heart breaking through disappointed love."

"To believe her heartless is impossible," exclaimed Don Luis. "Though,

on my word, you seem anxious to shake my confidence in her sex in

general."

"O, no," answered the Captain, laughing, or rather, it might be said,

chuckling: "some are perfect angels--till you know them."

Don Luis did not answer, though he could scarce avoid being angry with

his friend for his preventive cauterisation, although the wound did not

smart the less severely for its being well intended; and at that moment

some necessary duty of the ship called Captain Pinto from his side, who,

as he left him, muttered, "Poor youth, poor youth, if he persist in

trusting to the love of such an one as Donna Theresa, he will be sadly

disappointed!" Don Luis was left to pursue undisturbed the no very

pleasant meditations to which his late conversation had given rise.

That our readers may no longer be in suspense as to whence the ship we

have described came, we may inform them that she was a man-of-war,

belonging to the crown of Portugal, though fitted up as a yacht; that

she was now returning from the shores of England, whither she had

conveyed an ambassador from His Most Faithful Majesty to the Court of

London, and that the young Don Luis d'Almeida, who had, for some time

past, been travelling in that country, after having made the tour of

Europe, had taken advantage of the opportunity of returning in her to

his native land.

The father of Don Luis, the Conde d'Almeida, was a noble of the purest

blood, and one of the most ancient families of Portugal; but their

fortune had been much reduced through the improvidence of some of the

latter possessors of the title, their honour preventing them from

employing any of those unjust, or at best doubtful means which others of

their rank did not scruple to use to increase their wealth, and their

pride forbidding them to engage in any mercantile speculations, a

prejudice less general in the present day than at that time, and one

above which even the Conde d'Almeida could not be expected to rise.

The Count had several brothers, who died childless; the youngest, and by

far the most talented, having during the former reign been banished, for

some political crime it was said, when the ship which conveyed the young

and audacious advocate of civil and religious liberty was, with all her

crew, overwhelmed by the waves, "a just punishment, doubtless, for his

daring and impiety," observed the pious King John's confessor, when the

news was brought home: there was also one sister, who had married the

Marquis d'Alorna, and, dying young, left her only child without a

mother's fostering care and protection, the lovely Donna Theresa, who

had, as we have seen, won the early affections of her cousin, Don Luis.

The Count, a man of an enlightened mind, had devoted himself to the

education of his only son, who had imbibed from him all his sentiments

of honour and virtue, with the same true pride of ancestry which made

him incapable of committing any deed derogatory to the dignity of his

lofty birth. Such was the young noble we have introduced to our

readers, firm in principle, enthusiastic in temperament, eager in

pursuit of his aims, with a candour and want of suspicion in his manner

which appeared to arise from ignorance of the world, but was rather the

result of the secluded and strict system of education he had undergone,

which had kept him unacquainted with the vices of society till his

principles had been formed to guard against them, nor had it prevented

him from acquiring a clear insight into the characters of men, when once

he began his career amongst them. The plan pursued in his education we

deem, in most cases, to be a very dangerous one, when a young mind is

plunged unprepared to combat with the follies and vices of the world;

but he, fortunately, at once became disgusted with them, and learned to

dread their glittering temptations, as the mariner does the light

sparkling froth which, on the calm blue sea, plays over the hidden

sandbank. In person he was of good height, and well-formed; of the most

polished and graceful address; his bright dark eye sparkling with

animation, or flashing with anger; his voice of rich and clear melody,

so that under no disguise could he have appeared otherwise than a

gentleman.

Captain Pinto has already, in a few words, given as much of his own

history as we are acquainted with, and though his personal appearance

had not the stamp of nobility impressed on it, his features betokened a

kind disposition, (for we are great physiognomists,) notwithstanding

that he had lately given utterance to some observations which sounded

rather sour and morose; but he had spoken with the best intentions,

thinking that some advice was necessary to check the too ardent hopes of

his young friend, and having his reasons perhaps for supposing he might

be deceived. But it is high time that we should return to our

narrative.

The sails were now trimmed to meet a slight variation in the wind, which

blew less steadily than in the morning, and that duty being completed,

the captain resumed his walk by the side of Don Luis, whose feelings of

annoyance had by this time completely subsided; indeed, to his generous

disposition, it was impossible to continue angry any length of time,

with one who evidently took a warm interest in his welfare. "Now, my

young friend," observed the worthy commander, after taking several turns

in silence, "you will soon be convinced of the advantage of being

prepared for disappointment," at the same time pointing to some small

dark clouds rising right ahead from the horizon. "Look at those black

heralds of strife and tumult, not of the puny strife of men, but of the

majestic rage and fury of the elements. A few minutes ago you were

felicitating yourself in the fond anticipations of meeting those dear to

you before to-morrow has closed, or at the furthest on the following

day, and with the fair fresh breeze and smooth sea we were enjoying, you

had every reason for your hopes; and now behold how suddenly they may be

blasted; for if an old seaman's prognostications are not false, we shall

have before long a stiff gale directly in our teeth, and then, farewell

to our friends in Lisbon for a week at the shortest calculation! That

is no gentle summer gale brewing away to the south-east. See how

quickly the clouds gather, and what a thick heavy bank they form,

resting like a high land on the sea."

"I should be ungrateful if I were to grumble at the prospect of

remaining a week or so longer under your kind care," returned Don Luis;

"but I confess that I did hope to arrive in a much shorter period at

Lisbon."

"I know you did, I know you did," said the Captain. "Very natural it

was for you to do so; and I should think that, long ere this, you must

have become heartily tired of the society of an old fellow like

myself,--though I have seen something to talk about in my ramblings

through the world."

Don Luis, with sincerity, protested that he had passed the time on board

most agreeably.

"Well, I trust you have not found me wanting in hospitality, at all

events," continued the old officer, "though you have full right to

complain of our long voyage; but let me tell you, we have had, for this

time of the year, most unusual weather; first, the heavy gales we

experienced; then the thick heavy fogs, which hung like funereal palls

over the face of the deep; next the smooth sea and sudden favourable

breeze, which seems, however, inclined to play us a jade's trick, and

leave us in the lurch; and now those threatening clouds away there to

the south-east. That is not the quarter from whence gales generally

spring up off this coast; but if those clouds don't hold a very large

capful of wind, I am very much mistaken. During the whole course of my

life I never met such unnatural weather, and I don't like the look of

it. Depend on it there's something strange going to happen, though I

would not say so to the crew, or to the women, if we had any on board,

and thank Heaven we have not."

The officer who had charge of the navigation of the ship, who in the

English service is called the master, more correctly denominated by the

Portuguese the pilot, at that moment came up to the captain, taking off

his hat respectfully, as he pointed out the dark clouds in the horizon.

"We shall have a gale before long, Senhor Captain," said the veteran,

who was a fine specimen of the sailor of times long, alas! passed by in

the annals of Portugal, during her palmy days of naval supremacy.

"'Twill be a breeze which will make us look sharp after our sticks.

Shall we begin to get in some of our light canvass; for I like not the

look of the weather. There is a storm out there, muttering ugly

threats, from which 'twere wiser to take warning."

"You are right, Senhor Nunez," answered the Captain. "Those are signs

of a gale, or we have been to sea for a century between us to very

little purpose; but there is no immediate necessity to shorten sail, so

we may as well not lose the advantage of the breeze, while it lasts, to

make as much way good in our voyage as we can; for we shall probably,

before long, be blown far enough from our course to weary us with

beating up to our port once more."

"As you think fit, Senhor, but it will be down on us without much

further warning," observed the pilot, as he kept his glance towards the

south-east.

The officers continued walking the deck, but their conversation was

short and disjointed; their eyes constantly glancing round the horizon

in search of further signs of the coming storm; yet, notwithstanding the

prognostications of the commander and the pilot, the breeze held

tolerably steady, only shifting now and then half a point or so, which

required a corresponding attention in trimming sails, so as not to

deviate from their course.

"Ah, Captain Pinto," exclaimed Don Luis, with a smile on his lips, "I

trust that this once, at least, my hopes rather than your forebodings

may be realised; see, the breeze is still our friend, nor does it seem

inclined to desert us, and perhaps, after all our fears, yonder mass may

prove but a fog bank, through which we may quickly cleave our way."

"Still sanguine, and expecting better fortune than will probably fall to

our lot? But, although your hopes are bright, I am not to be deceived

by any treacherous appearances. Even while you have been speaking the

breeze has fallen; look over the side, and observe the ship makes much

less way through the water than she did a few minutes ago; and see her

wake, for how short a distance does the foamy line extend ere the waves

obliterate all signs of it! Mark me, the breeze, like hollow friends,

will soon desert us. Ah! said I not true? The words have scarcely

passed my lips ere my predictions are fulfilled."

As he spoke, the sails gave one loud flap against the mast, though they

again bulged out as the last effort of the dying breeze once more filled

them. In a moment the commander was all life and animation. "In all

studding sails, Senhor Alvez," he shouted to his first lieutenant.

"They are like officious friends, and do us more harm than benefit."

"All hands, shorten sail," was echoed through the ship, as the sailors

sprung with alacrity on deck.

"Be quick, my men, be quick! There's no time to lose!--Man your

downhauls!--Let fly your gear!" shouted the Captain, through his

speaking-trumpet; and in a minute the light, airy canvass, before

extended like wings on each side of the larger sails, was taken into the

tops, or hauled down on deck. "Hand the royals, Senhor Alvez," cried

the commander again. "Furl topgallant-sails, and down with the royal

and topgallant-yards!" he quickly added. "We may as well relieve the

craft of all top-hamper: she'll dance all the lighter for it."

These orders were quickly accomplished by a ready and active crew, who

sprung aloft with all the activity, and somewhat of the chattering, of

monkeys; for, in those times, the strict discipline and regularity of

the present day were not observed in any service, and silence was not

considered a necessary part of duty. Scarcely had the men returned on

deck, when they were again ordered aloft, although it had now fallen a

complete calm, the vessel rolling on the long smooth swell which seemed

to rise without any impelling power, like the breathing of some vast

giant in his sleep. The sun, now sinking rapidly in the ocean, still

shone with dazzling brightness, from a dark blue sky yet unclouded in

that part of the heavens in which his course lay. The sails flapped

lazily against the masts, with a dull sound like a distant cannonade,

the timbers creaked, and the water splashed, as she slowly rolled from

side to side, the bubbles of foam sparkling brightly around the black

and shining wales.

"Hand the courses--brail up the mizen!" suddenly shouted the Captain;

for in those days the last-mentioned sail was carried,--a large unwieldy

latteen-sail, with a long heavy yard, requiring a strong force of the

crew to hand, instead of that which we now call a spanker. After much

hauling and labour, the order was accomplished. "Close reef and furl

the topsails!" he added; "we will show naked sticks to yonder blast, and

may then laugh at its efforts! There is no use running the chance of

having our canvass blown out of the bolt-ropes."

In a few minutes the towering pillar of canvass had disappeared; and the

ship, under bare poles, rocked like a cradle on the ocean, without

advancing an inch in her course; the helm, too, having lost all its

guiding power, her head moved slowly about, as if uncertain of its way.

The atmosphere, which in the morning had been so brisk and light, became

loaded and oppressive to the feelings; but as yet no breath even of the

adverse blast was felt. A thick haze was collecting round the disk of

the sun, which had now assumed an angry, fiery hue,--its size many times

increased from its ordinary appearance; and, as it sank into the ocean,

the fierce glowing blaze of the western sky, tinged with its light the

borders of the approaching mass of clouds.

"Seldom have I seen the sun set in so hot a passion," observed the

Captain to Don Luis. "He does it in kindness, however, to warn us that

we shall be wishing for his light again before he can possibly appear to

aid us."

Onward came the frowning mass of clouds, with their light, fiery _avant

couriers_; and, as the shades of night were fast throwing a dark mantle

over the ocean, suddenly, without a moment's warning, a fierce squall

struck the ship, turning her head rapidly round, the water hissing and

foaming about her bows. For a few moments again all was calm,--the

angry breath, which had blown, seeming but some sudden ebullition of the

spirit of the tempest, and to have passed in forgetfulness away. Yet

treachery lurked beneath that tranquil air. Down came the blast with no

second notice--strong and furious--driving onward before it the light

and buoyant corvette. Away she flew over the milk-white ocean, like a

sea-bird in search of its finny prey, now dipping her head into the

trough of the fast-rising sea, then again ascending, and shaking it, to

free herself from the sheets of spray which dashed around her.

"You see, my friend," said Captain Pinto, touching Don Luis on the arm,

"that my forebodings, as you called them, have turned out truer than

your hopes. A few hours ago you were looking out ahead for land, and

now how things have changed! There lies the land right over the

taffrail, or a little on the larboard-quarter; for this gale has come

from the south east, and here are we doomed to beat about, like the

Flying Dutchman, before our port, without a chance of reaching it. But

patience! it is a fine wind for outward-bound ships, and we must be

content to be the sufferers." He then beckoned the pilot to his side.

"What say you, Senhor Nunez, shall we heave the ship to? There is no

use running away from our course."

"We may heave to the ship, if we like," replied the old seaman; "but I

much doubt if we have any canvass on board to keep her there: she would

bear it if we made sail; though I suspect the wind would soon take it in

for us. If I might advise, we will run on before it while it lasts; for

I do not think, by the way it came on, it will hold long; and then there

will be less risk of damaging the ship."

"Let it be so, Senhor Nunez," answered the Captain. "Such, also, is my

opinion. A gale like this is not to be played with, if one would keep

one's gear in condition."

The waves were not as yet running very high, but were short and broken,

tossing up their thin foam-covered crests with sudden, quick, and angry

jerks, seeming to excite each other to fury as they vied in their

maddening leaps. The sky had become of one dark hue, the thick mist

flying rapidly over it; and the sea, when perceived under the frothy

sheet which covered it, had assumed a cold, leaden colour. It would

have been a sad and dreary prospect to the seamen, with their long

night-watch before them, had not custom reconciled them to their hard

lot, and caused them to be insensible to the dangers they encountered.

Everything was made snug on board; and, steady men being placed at the

wheel, the captain, followed by Don Luis, retired unconcernedly to his

cabin, desiring to be called, if any change took place. Such was the

state of affairs, as the almost impenetrable shades of night fell over

the face of the ocean, while onward dashed the ship into the dark

unknown expanse, like a man plunging, by his own intent, into the

unexplored future of another world.

Volume 1, Chapter II.

It was yet some hours before dawn. The gale had rather increased than

lessened in fury, the corvette, with all her canvass closely furled, was

driving impetuously before it, the wind whistled and howled through the

rigging; the waves, now rising in mountainous billows, dashed high in

wild confusion, and, rolling towards her, seemed, with savage intent,

about to overwhelm her; but, proudly holding her course, she rushed

through them unharmed. At intervals, too, flashes of lightning darted

from the overcharged clouds, lighting up the scene again to leave the

mighty void in greater obscurity than before.

At a moment when the heavens had emitted a flash longer continued and

brighter than usual, a loud cry from the look-out men ahead was heard.

"A sail ahead! Starboard! hard-a-starboard! or we shall be into her!"

was passed along the decks with startling rapidity, and there was scarce

time for the vessel to answer the helm, before the lofty masts and spars

of a ship were seen towering to the sky, so close on board them, that

the corvette seemed to graze her yards, as they flew by her like

lightning. The stranger seemed, by the glance they had of her, to be a

large ship, hove to on the starboard tack, under a close reefed

main-topsail.

The old pilot, who had just come on deck to relieve the second

lieutenant from his watch, gazed earnestly towards the void in which she

had disappeared, as if he would penetrate its thick curtain of darkness,

and shook his head as he observed, "I like not thus to meet a bark such

as that we have just passed. She is an omen of death and destruction to

some who float on these seas; and if she was built in any known port, I

am very much mistaken."

"What, Senhor Nunez! do you not take her for a real ship?" asked the

second lieutenant. "For my own part, by her appearance, I had no doubt

of it, and I felt my heart beat all the lighter when we were clear of

her; now, if she were a phantom, as you seem to say, we should have gone

clean through without any damage."

"That comes of trusting to your new-fangled philosophy, instead of

putting faith in the signs Heaven sends us to warn us of danger,"

answered the pilot. "Not that I mean to say there was anything holy in

yonder bark; but Heaven often permits evil spirits to work out its own

purposes, for which she may perhaps be allowed to wander on this stormy

ocean. I have not doubled the Cape for the last fifty years without

seeing such sights as would make your hair stand on end, and your heart

sink within you."

"Well, well, I will not now dispute the point with you," responded the

young officer, "you are an older man by many years than I am, and of

course have seen many more wonderful things; but we will discuss the

subject some day when I can manage to keep my eyes open, which I can now

scarcely do; however, ought I not, before I turn in, to let the captain

know what we have seen?"

"Do as you like; but it will be rousing him up to little purpose," said

the old man. "The chances are, that the next time we see her, she will

be right ahead, with all her canvass set, coming down upon us."

The lieutenant was just descending to the main-deck, when at that

instant a cry of surprise from one of the young midshipmen arrested him,

and the stranger was perceived dashing after them, as she emerged from

the obscurity, her white canvass gleaming brightly, as it reflected the

flashes of lightning. He hastened down to call the captain, who, at the

first summons, rushed on deck, where he was soon joined by his young

passenger.

"I did not expect to see yonder stranger where he now is," said the

pilot, as, the captain joining him on the poop, he pointed out the

phantom-looking ship; "and, for the life of me, I cannot make him out;

but I think no good of him. He is more likely to be a foe than a friend

to any mortal cruisers."

"Whether he be friend or foe, he seems at all events in a great hurry to

speak us," exclaimed the Captain; "but methinks his speaking-trumpets

will not be of much avail in a hurricane like this; why, the spirit of

the storm laughs all human efforts to naught; and I should have thought

he could scarcely have distinguished our bare poles through this inky

darkness."

"Those on board her don't require any night glasses to see their prey,"

said the old Pilot, gloomily; "they scent it from afar, as the vulture

does a carcass."

"Whether he can see us or not, here he comes," shouted the Captain.

"Beat to quarters--we will be prepared for him. Topmen, ready aloft.

We will make sail, if necessary," he added, turning to Senhor Nunez;

"but he is, probably, one of our fire-eating friends, an Englishman, who

will never let a ship on the high seas escape their scrutiny, in the

hopes of finding an enemy worth engaging."

"I don't think he belongs to any nation that carries a flag," answered

Senhor Nunez, piously crossing himself, "and I have been vowing two wax

candles to our Lady of Belem, to be bought out of my arrears of pay, if

she will shield us from all the powers of darkness."

"Our blessed Lady protect us from such!" said the Captain; "but I think

we shall have none but mortal enemies to contend with in yonder ship."

The men, in the meantime, went steadily to their quarters; and now that

there was considerable danger to be incurred, their tongues were kept in

silence, their ears ready to catch any orders that might follow, though

they fully shared in the old pilot's ideas as to the supernatural

character of the ship in sight.

"Let every alternate gun be run out on the starboard side, Senhor

Alvez," said the Captain; "we cannot fight our entire battery in a sea

like this; and a few well-handled guns will do more work than a whole

broadside ill served; but I do not surmise we shall be brought to that

pass. She will scarcely wish to fight us, and I have no intention of

attacking her till I know what she is."

This disposition of the crew took some little time to make, as there was

danger, as well as difficulty, in putting the guns in fighting order.

"Keep her edging away to the south," he added, to the quarter-master,

who was conning the ship; "we will endeavour to keep our friend on the

starboard side."

The order was scarcely given, when the stranger, ranging up on the

starboard quarter, a voice from her forecastle hailed them; but the loud

roaring of the blast, and dashing of the waves, drowned all distinctions

of sounds, and before Captain Pinto, seizing his speaking-trumpet, had

time to answer, a shot from her bow gun whistled over their heads,

followed by six or eight others, as she ranged alongside; but, flying

high, they did little damage.

"Ah! our friend has taken the tone of his temper to-night from the

weather, and is rather inclined for strife; but we will show him,

whoever he is, that he has caught a Tartar. Fire! my men, fire!" cried

the Captain, "and aim low; he deserves some punishment for not making

more polite inquiries respecting our health before he began the

engagement, as a gentleman should do." The order was obeyed with

alacrity, two or three of the shot seeming to take effect on the hull of

their adversary: for, by the bright flashes of the guns, some white

spots were perceptible on her bulwarks, which might have convinced

others less determinately superstitious, of her substantial nature.

"Topmen aloft, and make sail!" shouted the Captain, through his

speaking-trumpet; "we will fight this daring stranger to every

advantage; for it will not do to allow him to haul across our bows, as

he seems to have some intention of doing, even at great risk to himself.

At all events, he is not a person to be trifled with."

The fore and main-topsails, closely-reefed, were now let fall, and, with

great exertion, extended to their yard-arms; the two ships being thus on

an equality of sailing, continued to run side by side, exchanging every

now and then strong and noisy proofs of their vicinity, by an irregular

discharge of their guns, as they could be brought to bear in the heavy

sea that was running, and as they gained a momentary glance of each

other. It was fearful thus fighting amid darkness on the raging ocean,

which, of itself, afforded dangers sufficient to encounter; yet 'twas a

scene which made the heart of Don Luis throb with wild excitement, such

as he had never before experienced--the howling of the tempest, the

muttered growls of the thunder, the roar of the guns, their bright

flashes, and the forked lightning, which played around the masts of the

ships, as if to remind them that they were liable to destruction from a

far greater Power than that of which their own mortal efforts were

capable. As yet the guns of the enemy had done no more damage than

cutting some of the running rigging; but it was impossible to say what

mischief those of the corvette had inflicted in retaliation, though,

from the pertinacity of her opponent, it was supposed to have been but

slight.

"If yonder ship does not carry the devil and a whole host of his imps on

board, she must be an Englishman," said the old Pilot, coming up to the

captain's side; "for no other mortals would have dreamed of engaging in

a night like this, and she must fancy that she has got alongside a

Frenchman: there's no doubt of it."

"I know not of what nation he is, though I am pretty certain of his

mortal qualities," answered the Captain. "But if he is an Englishman, I

wish we could find some way of letting him know we are friends, for he

will not leave us till he has either sunk us or blown us out of the

water, if we cannot manage to treat him in the same way."

"Where is the enemy? Where is the skulking foe?" was echoed along the

decks by some of the crew; for since the last discharge of her guns

their opponent had disappeared in the impenetrable darkness which

surrounded them, increased by a thick mist, which came driving past;

while others exclaimed, "Holy Virgin, that was no mortal bark! Ah, she

has vanished as suddenly as she appeared! May the saints protect us,

and gain us forgiveness for our sins; for we have been fighting with the

powers of darkness?"

"That fellow is no Englishman, or he would not for a moment have lost

sight of us, if he thought us an enemy," cried the Captain. "No, no, I

know those haughty islanders too well. He is some Frenchman, perhaps,

who, from the few guns we used, mistakes us for a smaller vessel of the

foe, and will be down again upon us directly. We must fight our whole

broadside, Senhor Alvez, at every risk, to undeceive him as to our size;

and we will take care that he does not run away from us, whoever he may

be."

"If we were to sail on till doomsday we should never come up with him,

were he to seek to avoid us," muttered the old Pilot, as he gazed

earnestly towards the spot where the ship was last seen.

The first lieutenant descended to the main-deck, to see the orders

executed: the guns were then loaded and run out, a most perilous

undertaking; for the sea rushed through the open ports each roll the

ship made, flooding the decks, almost filling the guns, wetting the

ammunition, and extinguishing the matches. The seamen, frequently up to

their knees in water, were exposed to the danger of the guns breaking

loose, an accident which did indeed occur more than once; but,

encouraged by their officers, they perseveringly retained their

stations. Once, indeed, the dangers and horrors of the terrific scene

overcame the courage of some, and they showed symptoms of abandoning

themselves to despair, calling on the Virgin and all the saints to aid

them; but the gallant Captain Pinto, followed by Don Luis and some of

the other officers, rushed among them, so earnestly encouraging them to

do their duty, both by words and gestures, that they promised to fight

to the last gasp, and sink with their colours flying.

Don Luis returned with the captain to the poop, offering to take charge

of some of the small brass guns and swivels, should they come to closer

quarters.

During this state of doubt and uncertainty, every instant seemed an

hour; for no one could tell when they might again be engaged, or what

might be the issue of the combat with an adversary which was equal to,

if not larger than their own vessel. As the thick mist we have spoken

of flew past them, the dim outline of the foe was again distinguished by

some of the keenest eyes on board, still in the same relative position

in which they had last seen her, and by her movements she evidently had

them in sight, but seemed disinclined to renew the engagement.

"Give him a shot for the honour of Portugal," shouted the Captain. "We

will convince him that we, at all events, are perfectly ready to fight."

The order was immediately obeyed; but the stranger took not the

slightest notice of the challenge.

"We will near him, to discover, if possible, who he is. Port your helm

a little. That will do, we shall soon edge down to him."

A few minutes, however, convinced him that the enemy had no intention of

meeting at nearer quarters; for, no sooner did she perceive the aim of

the Portuguese, than she altered her course in the same degree that they

had done; and it may easily be understood that, in so high a sea and

strong a wind, it was very difficult, except by the consent of both

parties, to approach each other without imminent danger to her who

should most deviate from her course.

Hours passed on, the mysterious and phantom-looking bark still hovering

in the same direction; and thus, like two wild horses scouring along the

plains of Tartary, did the two ships continue, now dashing with fierce

impetuosity into the boiling cauldron, then rising again, and springing

forward, in their mad career, over the very summits of the froth-crested

billows. Had not the crew of the corvette had clear proofs that the

stranger was, like their own craft, composed of substantial timber, and

her guns served by mortal hands, they would have been more convinced

than ever that she was one of those phantom barks which were believed to

scour the ocean in heavy gales, as a warning to the mariner of

approaching destruction; and even the less superstitious might have

fancied her, by some optical delusion, the reflection of their own ship

upon the dark mist which surrounded them, so regularly did she imitate

all their movements. Thus the night wore on, the men almost sinking

with fatigue at their guns; for they were obliged to be every moment on

the watch to prevent their being overturned; nor could they venture to

secure them, lest the enemy should bear down upon them, and find them

unprepared to meet her.

"I see the aim of him who commands yonder ship," exclaimed Captain

Pinto, after examining the stranger attentively through his glass. "He

hopes to weary us out, and then to run us on board; but we will be even

with him: or perhaps he is wisely waiting to discover whether we are

friends or foes before he expends any more powder and shot. Secure the

guns and close the ports, Senhor Alvez, and let the men take some rest.

He is not likely to wish to attack us again before daylight, and we must

take care to be up before him; or, if he tries to near us before then,

we must pay him the same compliment that he just now did us, and get out

of his way."

The men were glad enough to secure the guns; but it was a time of too

much anxiety and excitement for any to quit the deck, where they

remained, filling each other's ears with marvellous legends of

mysterious barks which their friends, in like situations, had beheld,

and which had melted away like thin mist when the first grey tints of

morn appeared. At length the wished-for dawn began gradually to

dissipate the terrific obscurity of the night, and all doubts as to the

reality of the stranger bark were removed by perceiving her still broad

on their beam under her two closely-reefed topsails. The wild confusion

which reigned supreme on the waste of waters was rather magnified by the

dim uncertain light of morning: the waves, with foaming crests, leaping

madly around, the thick misty clouds flying rapidly along, one lawyer,

as it were, above the other, through which not a ray of the sun's beams

could escape to cheer the voyagers--all was cold, dreary, and

threatening. The gale, too, which had given promise of falling during

the latter hours of the night, now again, as if recovering strength with

the returning day, increased with such sudden fury, that, before any

warning was given, the main-topsail was blown clear off the bolt-ropes,

rent into a thousand shreds, with a loud report like a near clap of

thunder, and, flying over the fore-topsail-yard, was carried far out of

sight ahead.

"Get a new main-topsail on deck," shouted the Commander, in momentary

expectation of seeing the fore-topsail share the same fate; "we must not

be without our wings with yonder stranger in our neighbourhood," he

added, turning to Don Luis. "These are the variations of a sea-life, my

young friend,--a day of sunshine and calm, and two of clouds and

tempest."

"Away aloft, and bend the new sail," cried the Captain, after a minute's

silence. "The enemy keeps steadily on her course, as if there were no

such beings as ourselves in existence."

By the time that the fresh topsail was got aloft, and bent to the yard

by the willing seamen, broad daylight was on the world of waters.

"Hoist our colours, and let him know who we are," exclaimed the Captain;

but when the flag of Portugal blew wildly from the peak, no answering

signal was made by the stranger, though, being not a mile distant, he

must clearly have perceived it.

"He suspects those are not our true colours," observed the first

Lieutenant.

"Whether he does or does not, see he is edging down towards us again, to

make us out more clearly," said Captain Pinto. "Beat to quarters;

should he prove no friend, which I much doubt, we will be prepared for

him." As he spoke, a small ball was seen to ascend to the peak of the

stranger, and the blue banner of Morocco, with its crescent emblem, flew

out in a broad sheet to the blast. "Ah, I know the rascal now,"

continued the Captain, "he is a Salee rover, the greatest miscreant that

ever sailed the ocean--with a crew that will not fight except they fancy

themselves secure of conquering, and then show very little of a victor's

mercy. Slavery or death is the only fate those they capture must expect

at their hands."

While Captain Pinto was speaking, the two ships were drawing near each

other. The Salee rovers of those days were strongly armed ships, fitted

out by the piratical states of Algiers, Tripoli, Tunis, and the town of

Salee, and other places on the north coast of Africa, their crews

composed of robbers, murderers, and malefactors of every description,

chiefly the refuse of the Levant, and of every nation under the sun,

though calling themselves Turks. Their hands were against every man,

and every man's hand was against them; they revelled in blood and

slaughter, and mercy or any tender feelings of our nature was a stranger

to their hearts. As they seldom fought, except in the hopes of booty,

they were feared by all the mercantile navies in the world (for their

depredations extended far beyond the straits of Gibraltar); and all the

European governments succumbed, in the most extraordinary way, to their

tyrannical power, actually paying tribute to be free from their

impositions.

All hands on board regarded anxiously the approaching pirate, though

with less apprehension now that they knew with whom they had to contend.

"I knew all along that the devil had something to do with that vessel,"

cried the old Pilot, in rather an exulting tone. "If ever demons

inhabit human forms, they dwell in those wretches who compose her crew;

and let us thank the saints that we have a good ship and plenty of guns

to defend ourselves, or we should not see another day."

"He thinks that we are no Portuguese, but one of the cruisers of Naples,

or perhaps of his holiness the Pope," said the first Lieutenant, "or he

would not show so daring a front to us."

"No, no!" answered Captain Pinto, with some bitterness in his tone; "he

knows well enough that this is a Portuguese ship; but he does not know

that old Joze Pinto commands her, or perhaps he would moderate that

flaunting air. Once on a time no nation dared insult the flag of

Portugal on the high seas; but that time has long passed away, and now

all think they may venture to do so with impunity: however, my friends,

let us show that we still retain the spirit of our fathers. Give them a

shot, to convince the picarooning villains that we are awake from our

morning nap. Do you, Senhor Albuquerque," he said, turning to a young

officer who was standing near him, "exercise your skill in gunnery on

yonder pirate: a young eye and eager hand may throw a shot when a more

practised man may miss his aim." The young officer flew eagerly to obey

his chief, and scarcely had the match been applied to the touch-hole

before the effect of the shot was seen, as some white splinters were

observed to glance from the bulwarks of their adversary.

"Viva!" was shouted by all the crew in chorus.

"A few more shots like that would curb the vile infidel's pride," cried

the old Pilot; but he had scarce finished his sentence, when a bright

flame issued from the side of the stranger, and a crashing shower of

shot passed over them, slightly wounding some of the smaller spars; one,

however, swept the deck, killing one and severely injuring another of

the crew.

"Chance more than skill directed those shots," cried the Captain, to

encourage the crew, whose rage was immediately excited by the death of

their comrade. "Ah! see they show their true character, and are

sheering off to avoid the punishment they know is their due. Let them

feel we are not to be insulted with impunity. Fire!"

At the word, the guns of the corvette were discharged with considerable

effect on the very hull of the rover, who was evidently, for the time,

satisfied with fighting, as he immediately put his helm to port, and at

great risk, the seas breaking over his sides, sheered off from his

determined opponent. We have already explained the various dangers

incurred while fighting the guns in that heavy sea, it being much to the

credit of the crew that they could do so at all; and it was thus some

time before they could again discharge them, when the enemy had gained a

considerable distance, the shot falling harmlessly into the water. In

truth, at such a time, it was the object of neither ship to engage, as

victory could have been of no advantage to either; for it was utterly

impossible to have boarded the prize by means of boats; and if the two

ships had run alongside of each other, it was probable, if not certain,

that both would have sunk in the deadly embrace: a prolonged combat

would also have proved the destruction of both. They therefore, by

mutual consent, again kept on their course, eyeing each other with

hatred and suspicion.

The crew of the corvette were again ordered to secure their guns, when

they set about performing the ordinary duties of the ship; the look-out

men in the tops keeping a watchful eye on every movement of the corsair,

whose very disregard of them seemed to betoken treachery; the only

signal her crew made that they were conscious of the presence of a

hostile bark being that their pirate banner yet blew out to the blast as

a defiance. Thus for the whole day did the Portuguese ship and her foe

drive before the furious and unrelaxing gale, the officers and crew in

watches throwing themselves beneath the shelter of the poop-deck to

snatch a few minutes' repose, no one being willing to go below even for

an instant.

The Moor appeared to carry as many guns, if not more than the corvette,

being perhaps also of greater tonnage; and the probabilities were, that

she had by far the strongest crew, as it was the custom of the Salee

rovers to crowd their decks with men, their usual mode of fighting being

to run their enemy on board, when, rushing like a host of furies on the

devoted ship, their numbers generally carried the day; however, under

the present circumstances, that mode could be of no avail, and he

therefore very wisely avoided coming to closer quarters.

Sleep visited not the eyes of Don Luis, and scarcely would he allow

himself time to snatch a mouthful of food, so excited had he become by

the late skirmish, and the wild scene of confusion round him, no one

more earnestly eyeing the enemy, as he prayed for the abatement of the

gale, to have some chance of punishing the daring pirate for his

presumption in thus insulting the flag of his country. "Though the

proud days of chivalry have passed away," he exclaimed to himself, "I

will prove that I am no carpet knight, but worthy of the gallant

warriors from whom I am descended, whose lances were ever foremost in

fight and tourney. Here is an unlooked-for opportunity of

distinguishing myself, which will not, I trust, be torn from me; and I

will seize some trophy from yonder lawless stranger to lay at the feet

of my beloved Theresa, when how proudly will she welcome me, as I return

among a band of warriors, after a hard won victory, instead of from a

voyage without danger, and from a land of peace and security, as she

expects!"

Such thoughts very naturally passed through a young and enthusiastic

mind, but which, uttered aloud, would, to the generality of people, have

appeared to arise from Quixotic folly; and it must be confessed, that

his servant Pedro did not in the least participate in his master's

romantic feelings, though ever ready to share his fortunes. He, all the

time, most earnestly prayed that the devil would run away with the

stranger, or that he would go to the bottom before he had time to send

any more cannon balls on board the corvette. As for bearing a trophy to

his lady loves--for Pedro owned to two, one in his native village, and

another in Lisbon--it never entered his head; for he well knew they

would much prefer a piece of gay coloured calico to a bit of bunting,

which they could not convert into a petticoat. Pedro was certainly not

a romantic lover. It was curious, yet so it was, that the warnings of

his friend, Captain Pinto, never once occurred to Don Luis; nor did the

recollection for a moment cross his mind, that, instead of victory and a

speedy return to his native land, a long painful slavery, or a sudden

death, might be his lot.

Not a gleam of sunshine broke through the thick mass of clouds during

the whole course of the day, which passed on without any variation till

the fast increasing gloom announced the return of night with all its

horrors; for, in the southern latitudes, in which they were, the sun

scarcely sinks, before darkness overspreads the world; and thus in a

short time they again lost sight of the enemy in a dense curtain of

mist, which added to the obscurity. The captain, therefore, called a

council of war to consider the best plan to pursue, being unwilling to

miss the foe, and anxious at the same time not to run farther out of

their course than they could help, should the gale subside, as it had

lately given some promise of doing.

The officers were collected round their commander, the old pilot

strenuously giving it as his opinion, that, as soon as the gale

moderated, they should haul their wind, and leave their phantom opponent

to pursue, uninterrupted, her demon-directed course; persisting that she

would lead them through stormy seas and tempests half round the world

before she disappeared. The greater number, also, were of opinion that

they ought to haul their wind, or lay the ship to, when their

deliberations on the subject were quickly settled by a warning cry from

the men in the tops; and, at the moment when most considered the enemy

yet at some distance, he was perceived on their starboard quarter,

looming through the obscurity. The crew needed no order to fly to their

guns, or the officers to their respective posts; and scarcely had her

lofty masts appeared ranging up alongside, before a broad sheet of flame

issued from her ports, and a shower of shot passed over them.

"Fire, my men! fire low!" shouted the gallant Commander; and the shot

seemed to tell well upon the hull of the stranger. The guns were again

hauled in, loaded and fired with great rapidity, before their adversary

had time to give them a second broadside; the seeing which much animated

the men.

"Well done, my gallant fellows!" cried the Captain; "remember that you

are Portuguese and good Catholics, and that yonder ship contains a crew

of vile infidels. Our colours are still flying at our peak, and there

they shall fly till I am knocked overboard; so all you have to do is to

fire away as hard as you can, and by the blessing of the Holy Virgin we

shall be the conquerors." This short, pithy speech much animated the

crew; who, putting firm confidence in the courage and sagacity of their

leader, renewed their efforts with redoubled vigour. "See, Don Luis,"

added the Captain, "the infidel is near enough to feel our swivels and

light guns, and if you will undertake to command them, they may do some

service." Don Luis sprang gladly to obey the captain's order, followed

by Pedro; who, now that he could not avoid fighting, exerted himself as

well as the bravest, working the guns with considerable effect.

The firing on both sides had now become warm; the enemy being in

earnest, and evidently eager, on some account or other, to bring the

contest to a speedy close. Their guns were discharged as rapidly as

they could be loaded, doing much execution on board the corvette,

striking down several men on the main-deck, and one on the poop, close

to Don Luis, though each shot was returned with equal vigour. The

flashes of the guns clearly showed the enemies to each other, for they

were now running along not a quarter of a cable's length apart; the

Portuguese aiming always at the hull of their opponent, with the

determination of sinking her, if possible; while she fired in the hopes

of cutting away their spars and rigging, and crippling their masts;

that, unable to escape, she might be able to take possession of them at

leisure: the only objects the rovers sought in victory being booty and

prisoners.

A truly awful scene was that night-engagement, as the two small barks,

on that vast wild waste, surrounded with all the majestic horrors of

ocean strife, filled with human beings regardless of Heaven's wrath,

strove, with all the animosity of demons, to hurl each other to

destruction, nor thinking of their own fate.

The infidel had wrongly calculated on an easy victory, when he attacked

a ship commanded by so hardy and brave a seaman as Joze Pinto; for his

crew, confiding in his courage and seamanship, fought as well as any

seamen in the world--as the Portuguese always will do when well led--

and, after an hour's engagement, the effect of their efforts became

perceptible, in the slackened fire of the enemy. Both the wind and sea

had now much fallen; and, as the storm broke, flashes of lightning

darted from the clouds--for a moment casting a lurid glare on the

hostile ships and the foaming cauldron between them--again leaving a

more fearful gloom on the scene. "Where is the infidel, where is the

infidel?" was again shouted by the crew, after a bright flash had

dazzled their eyes, and she had for the last minute ceased firing.

"She's gone, she's gone!" The officers looked eagerly out--no one could

see the pirate ship--but they dreaded some treachery: the guns,

therefore, were loaded and run out; the crew waiting in breathless

expectation to catch sight of her, when she was again perceived coming

up close on their quarter, with the intent, it seemed, to range up

alongside; yet nothing but madness or desperation could have instigated

them to the act, for certain destruction threatened both, if she should

attempt to board; for, once joined, the sea must overwhelm them both.

"Boarders, come aft," shouted the Captain: "starboard the helm." The

manoeuvre caused the rover to miss his aim, and as he threw his

grapnels, they fell into the water. "Steady, again," the Captain cried;

but the rover was not to be deceived a second time; for, with determined

daring, putting his helm also to starboard, he ranged alongside, and

locked his yard-arms in a deadly embrace with those of the Portuguese.

A loud shriek of horror arose from many, even of the brave, on board.

"Silence, men, silence!" cried Captain Pinto: "aloft, and cut away: be

prepared to repel boarders." The men sprang to the rigging as ordered:

all knew that their lives depended on their activity. A loud crashing

noise was heard as the stout spars tore and wrenched each other from the

ropes which held them, falling in splinters from aloft; but as yet the

hulls of the ships had not touched, the sea in foaming torrents dashing

up between them, and inundating the decks of both. What we have been

describing took place in a few seconds.

"Fire!" shouted the Captain; and the balls were seen to tear up the

sides of the rover, who appeared to be incapable of answering the

discharge.

Still onward dashed the ships, their spars and rigging yet locked

together, the wild sea threatening each moment to claim them as its

prize; when, as for an instant their hulls ground together, a form was

seen to spring from the shrouds of the pirate ship on to the deck of the

Christian. "Faithless tyrants, I am no longer your slave!" he

exclaimed, as he hurled his gleaming sabre among the people he had just

quitted: "I may now die among my countrymen." The words were scarce

heard amid the tumult, or the action seen; and, as he fell, the cutlass

of a seaman brought him bleeding to the deck, where he lay, trampled on

and disregarded, amid some of the Portuguese who had been struck down.

At the same moment, the glare of the forked lightning exhibited a

hundred swarthy turbaned figures on the nettings and lower rigging of

the Rover, and, like a rush of fierce vultures on their prey, with loud

yells, the foremost threw themselves on the deck of the corvette, when

the upper works of the two ships again separated.

"Onward, my men, onward!" shouted Captain Pinto, rushing forward to

repel them at the head of a party of his best seamen, with Don Luis by

his side, who, at the first fierce onset, warded off a blow which might

have proved fatal to the gallant chief. But the pirates fought with all

the ferocity of despair and fanaticism, for they neither expected nor

asked for mercy; their only hope was in victory. Yet, notwithstanding

the desperate resistance they made, they could not withstand the

superior numbers of the Portuguese: loudly rung their fierce war cries;

their sharp sabres flashed brightly as they strove for life, every

moment expecting to be reinforced by their friends, who waited but the

returning roll, when the upper works of the ships should again meet, to

rush on board; the flashes from the muskets of the marines, and the

pistols of the seamen, between the gleams of lightning, alone exhibiting

the combatants to each other, all the lights on board having been

extinguished to prevent the enemy from taking aim. Again they rallied,

the Portuguese giving way. A gigantic Moor, who had fallen as they

first leapt on board, now extricating himself, attacked Don Luis with

such desperate fury, that, although he defended himself with courage and

coolness, he would have been overthrown, had not Pedro contrived to get

a cut at the Moor's arm, which brought him bleeding to the deck. The

brave captain once more calling upon his men, pressed the Moors hard:

inch by inch they were cut down, or forced back, till they were driven

over the nettings into the dark yawning gulf below, or ground by the

sides of the ships. But this short success had cost the Portuguese

dear, and even their chief felt that they could with difficulty contend

against the swarm of desperate miscreants, who were ready at the moment

to throw themselves headlong among them, nor had the people aloft yet

succeeded, in spite of all their efforts, in clearing the rigging.

Again the nettings of the two ships touched, and, uttering loud yells,

crowds of the foemen hurled themselves from their posts in the rigging

with their gleaming sabres in hand; but it was to destruction; for at

that instant a tremendous sea rushed up between the two ships, tearing

away all the fastenings which held them aloft.

The Rover made one roll to starboard; a vivid flash of lightning threw a

momentary lurid glare over her, as her crew were seen to spring the

larboard rigging, every lineament of their dark features distorted with

the wildest rage and despair: those livid, demoniacal countenances were

long fixed in the memory of all who saw them. The wild frothy sea

leaped high between the two barks, but the pirate rose not again: a

piercing shriek of agony was the last sound heard ascending in the night

air, high above the loud roaring of the tempest. For one instant only

were the masts and spars of the Salee rover seen ere the dark waves

rolled triumphantly over the spot where she had been.

The Portuguese gazed with horror, for from such a fate, too, had they

narrowly escaped through Heaven's mercy. Continuous flashes of

lightning darted from the clouds, exhibiting, far astern, the

outstretched arms and despairing features of the sinking wretches; but

they were pirates, accursed by Heaven and man, and deserved no aid,

could any have been afforded them, and the victors bounded on proudly in

their course.

Volume 1, Chapter III.

Scarcely had the lawless career of the Salee rover thus awfully

terminated, as we have narrated at the end of our last chapter, than the

spirit of the storm, as if satisfied with the sacrifice offered to him,

began to relax his fury. The heavy clouds cleared gradually away, and

the bright stars (those cheering beacons to the mariner) were seen

glimmering from the clear dark blue sky: the wind, too, shifted to the

southward of east, and the sea fell considerably, so that the repairs of

the corvette could be carried on with much less danger and difficulty

than at first. The damages she had sustained in her long encounter with

the corsair, were of less consequence than might have been expected,

considering the size and power of the enemy; and the seamen attributed

their victory to their fervent prayers to the Virgin, and all the

saints, and to the vows of offerings at their shrines.

This was, however, no time for thought--activity and energy of action

were now demanded; every officer and man was employed; the captain

urging them to their work; for till the standing rigging could be

secured, their masts, which had fortunately escaped injury, might any

moment have gone overboard. A few only of the shrouds were found to

have been cut away, which being put to rights in the best way they could

effect, and a fresh running rigging rove, a reef was shaken out of each

of the three topsails, and the ship brought to the wind, with her head

towards the shore. Boldly did she buffet the billows, like a gallant

hunter straining every nerve to clear the heavy ground of a fresh

ploughed field.

During the greater part of the time, Don Luis remained on the poop,

giving such assistance as he was able; but, on an occasion like the

present, a landsman can be but of little use, and on the first moment of

cessation from toil, the Captain joined him, exclaiming, "Ah, my young

friend, Heaven be praised that you have escaped uninjured; for, had you

suffered in the engagement, I should have blamed myself for treating you

with sad want of hospitality on the ocean. But you have now added to

the wonders of your travels a sea adventure worth talking about; and do

not forget to mention a brave youth who saved his captain's life; at all

events, Joze Pinto will not be ungrateful, if he ever has the

opportunity of showing his gratitude."

"It is I who have to thank you for preserving my life, and the lives of

all on board, by your bravery and conduct, Captain Pinto," returned Don

Luis, "and proud I am to have fought by your side."

"Talk not of it, my friend; for this is no time to stand bandying

compliments," answered the Captain. "Ah, Senhor Nunez," he added,

turning to the pilot, who was just then passing them. "Were you at last

convinced that we had mortal foes to contend with?"

"I know not, senhor," answered the old man; "they fought like devils, at

all events, and till I see some of them make the sign of the cross, I

shall still believe them evil spirits."

"They are all long ere this in the world of spirits," said Captain

Pinto; "for none, I think, can have escaped among all the wild crew."

While he was speaking, a party of seamen were seen ascending the poop,

dragging up between them a man, who by the dim light of a lantern held

before him, appeared to be severely wounded in the shoulder. His dress

consisted of the Moorish jacket and trousers; his head was bound by a

white turban, now torn, disordered, and wet with blood; his features

were swarthy and haggard, and his figure tall and well knit. He looked

round with a wild confused stare, as if scarce recovered from the

effects of some stunning blow, evidently endeavouring to collect his

scattered thoughts, in order to speak.

"Whom have you brought hither?" asked the Captain of the seamen; "I

thought not a pirate had escaped."

"This, by the blessing of the Virgin, is the only one on board,"

answered one of the men, "and he would not have been here now, had not

Senhor Alvez ordered us to bring him to you, instead of throwing him

overboard, with the rest of the cursed wretches, as we were about to do.

We found him scarcely breathing under two of our slain comrades, and

some say he must be the man they saw leap on board the moment the ships

ran foul of each other, who they thought had long ago gone with his

brother infidels to the bottomless pit."

The first lieutenant at the same time came up to corroborate the

statement, and to give in an account of the loss they had sustained, six

men having been killed, and a considerable number wounded by sabre cuts

while repelling the boarders.

"Let some one bind the wounds of that man, Senhor Alvez. Carry him

below, but secure his feet, that in the frenzy to which these people are

liable, he commit no mischief," said the Captain. "I will examine him

to-morrow at leisure, when he is fully certain to prove worthy of

hanging;" but, as he was speaking, consciousness returned to the mind of

the stranger; for at that moment, uttering a few words, he made a

gesture of supplication. The captain looked at him earnestly, as the

light of the lantern fell upon his features; again the same gesture was

repeated, when he once more sunk into a state of insensibility.

Whatever it was, it seemed to have a magic effect on Captain Pinto, as

scrutinising him closely, he said, as if to himself, "'Tis strange, and

yet it must be so;" then exclaimed aloud, "bear him carefully to my

cabin, for, though an infidel, he is a human being like ourselves, and

now hapless, and in our power, he is no longer an enemy; let the surgeon

attend to him, the moment he has seen to the more serious wounds of our

own people. Gentlemen, I take this stranger under my protection; for I

have reason to suspect that he is not what he seems. Don Luis, I

request your company in my cabin," saying which, the captain,

accompanied by Don Luis, followed the seamen, who, surprised at the

change of orders, bore the wounded stranger to the cabin, where he was

carefully placed on a couch, and his host, with his own hands,

commenced, in the most tender way, to examine his wounds till the

surgeon made his appearance, when that officer pronounced them not

dangerous, if immediately attended to. Restoratives being applied, he

at length gave signs of returning animation, and sitting up, gazed

wildly at the people who stood around him; but the captain would allow

none to question him till he had been supplied with dry clothes, and

every comfort that could be thought of. All were then desired to quit

the cabin, the Captain requesting Don Luis to retire to his own berth

till he summoned him, then approached the captive, and taking his hand,

"My brother," he said, "can I do ought else to relieve you? Speak, I

need but to know your wishes, to follow them to the utmost of my power;

I ask not now your name, or whence you come, for speaking will fatigue

you."

"Thanks, my brother, thanks," returned the stranger, "you follow the

greatest of all precepts, charity to the distressed. More I ask not;

but I would give you some account of myself, that you may report it to

those whose curiosity may be excited. You see before you a Christian

gentleman and a Portuguese, though 'tis long, long since I saw my

beloved country. Know me by the name of Senhor Mendez, no willing

companion, believe me, of the vile pirates you sent to destruction."

"My suspicions were not wrong then," said the Captain, drawing still

nearer, and gazing earnestly at him; "and, if I mistake not, I have seen

those features before, though when or where I cannot recall to mind."

The wounded man smiled faintly, "You have seen them before, Captain

Pinto," he said; "but years have passed since then, and time, in the

thousand changes it has been making, has not spared them, nor do I think

that my nearest friends could recognise him who is before you: we have

grown from youth to age since we last met."

"I am at fault then," answered the Captain; "nor can I guess when I knew

you."

"It is as well that you should remain in ignorance for the present, my

friend," answered the stranger. "I know that I can fully trust you; but

remember that there are some secrets which are dangerous to the

possessor, and I would not make you incur peril on my account if

possible."

"I will ask no further, my brother," said the Captain; "rest and sleep

are absolutely necessary for you, therefore I must insist on your

speaking no more," saying which he placed his guest back on the couch,

and summoned Don Luis to join him in a repast which he ordered to be

brought in, the first food they had found time to taste for hours, so

that both were ready to do full justice to it.

While they were at table, the light of the lamp falling strongly on the

countenance of Don Luis, drew the attention of the stranger towards him.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "whom have you near you, Captain Pinto? If fever

does not disturb my brain, I think that he whom I see before me is an

Almeida. Speak, youth! Do not you belong to that family?"

Don Luis started on hearing himself addressed. "I am an Almeida," he

answered. "The only son of the Count of Almeida."

"I knew that I could not be mistaken," said the prisoner, half to

himself. "By what an extraordinary fate do I meet you!--but I am

wandering. Stir not from where you are; I would gaze upon those

features I once knew so well. Yet no! 'tis a spirit I see before me,--a

form long since sunk to the grave! Ah, it stirs not! vain illusion! I

see the flag of Portugal, of my own loved country. Never more shall I

fight beneath that banner. The ship fills; the raging ocean is around

me, and I must die amid these vile pirates. Blood flows fast--red, red

blood--'tis that of my country's foes; Heaven protect me!" For some

minutes the stranger was silent, and appeared to have sunk into slumber.

The captain made a sign to Don Luis not to answer, when he perceived

that the wounded man was already beginning to ramble in his speech, when

the surgeon, having made the rounds of his other patients, returned; and

feeling his pulse, advised that he should be left alone and in quiet.

Having finished their repast, the captain beckoned Don Luis to accompany

him on deck, where they found that, during the short time they had been

absent, a great improvement in the weather had taken place. The clouds

had entirely disappeared, leaving the sky pure and deeply blue,

sparkling with myriads of stars: the sea, though still running, was

regular, shining, as far as the eye could reach, with bright flashes of

phosphorescent light, which rose and fell with the yet foaming waves,

the ship seeming to float amid hillocks running with molten gold like

lava down the sides of a volcano; a steady breeze also was blowing,

which enabled them to steer a direct course for Lisbon.

The dead were collected together, and placed beneath the poop-deck,

covered by the flag for which they had so bravely fought, there to await

till the following morning the last religious duties which could be paid

them, ere they were committed to the sailors' grave--the boundless deep.

Several had fallen; some killed by the cannon-shot of the Rover, and

others in the desperate struggle when the pirates rushed on board, among

whom one officer only was numbered, the brave young Albuquerque, who the

surgeon came to announce had just then breathed his last, from several

desperate sabre wounds he had received in the conflict. He was the

officer who fired the first successful shot at the rover's ship; and,

elated with the praise he received from his commander, he was among the

first to oppose the enemies, cutlass in hand, when they boarded. He was

now brought on deck, wrapped in his bloodstained sheets, his once bright

eye closed for ever; his features, lately playful with animation, now

ghastly and fixed, as the pale light of the seamen's lanterns fell on

them. He had always been a favourite with his commander, who bent

mournfully over him, as he was placed beside his more humble shipmates.

"Alas! poor youth," said Captain Pinto; "do thus end all thy bright

hopes and aspirations? Yet why should I grieve?--Thy days, though few,

have been joyous; and thou hast been removed ere sorrows and

disappointments had crowded round thee (as too surely they would have

done, except thy lot far differed from that of other mortals).

Farewell, brave youth! Many a tear will be shed for thy fate in the

home of thy fathers; and gladly would I have died instead of thee: for

there are few to mourn for old Joze Pinto." Having given vent to his

feelings, he covered the pallid features of the dead youth with a flag,

and joined Don Luis, who stood near, watching this gentle trait in the

character of the seemingly rough and hardy seaman.

The most important repairs in the ship had been now accomplished; the

decks required no washing, for the heavy seas which had broken over them

during the terrific engagement, had performed that office; and the watch

being set, she had assumed somewhat of her ordinary appearance. Gladly

did every one who could be spared from duty throw themselves into their

hammocks to seek repose, Don Luis dreaming that he still beheld the

agonised features of the drowning pirates; and Pedro, that he was hewing

away at the head of the Moor who had attacked his master, but which,

notwithstanding all his efforts, kept grinning at him with horrid

grimaces.

The first pale streaks of morn called everybody into activity; for there

was still much to be done before the ship could be restored to order.

The melancholy duty of committing the slain to the deep was performed

just as the sun rose bright and warm above the waves; and many an honest

tear was shed by the comrades of those who were never more to bask

beneath his genial rays; while many a vow was made to have masses

offered up for the repose of their souls.

The weather, as if to make amends to the voyagers for the ill-treatment

they had experienced, continued serene and favourable, and the corvette

bounded lightly over the now bright and laughing waters. The horrors

and dangers they had undergone fading gradually from their memories, as

events scarcely appertaining to themselves; for so are we constituted:

the most acute pains, the greatest trials of nerve, which in

anticipation we have dreaded, when past, are thought of with

indifference; and the recollection of pleasure is, alas! still more

evanescent. It is crime alone, a stinging conscience, which is the only

lasting torment, and the remembrance of good deeds the only true durable

happiness, for of that none can rob us.

For many hours during the day after the engagement with the Salee rover,

Senhor Mendez continued in a state of unconsciousness; nor towards the

evening, when he appeared to revive, would Captain Pinto, by the

surgeon's advice, allow him to enter into conversation,--the

extraordinary manner of his preservation, and the interest the captain

took in him, causing many surmises on board. Don Luis was also anxious

to learn somewhat of the stranger; but as his friend was not

communicative, he did not think right to question him on the subject.

Two days had thus passed by, when, as the captain and his young friend

were seated in the cabin, the stranger awoke from a sound slumber, and,

raising himself on his couch, looked around. "I have deeply to thank

you, Captain Pinto, for your care of a wounded prisoner," he said, "who

has caused you, I fear, much trouble, and who may cause you much more;

but perhaps you already know more than I would have revealed; for, tell

me, did I not ramble wildly in my speech the other night, when overcome

by fever?"

Captain Pinto assured him that he had in no way committed himself by

anything he had said.

"I rejoice to hear it, for your sake, and for that of the youth I see by

your side; for though I would not deceive you, and feel assured that I

might confide in both, I would not willingly entrust you with a secret

which might prove dangerous to the possessor."

"In what you say follow your own counsel," answered the Captain; "for I

would not wish to influence you, though you may put as full confidence

in the discretion of Don Luis d'Almeida, as in mine; and be assured that

we shall be ever ready to aid you to the utmost of our power."

"His name is, I trust, a guarantee for his honour," returned Senhor

Mendez; "and though I have weighty reasons for concealing the early part

of my history, I will narrate, in as brief a way as possible, some of

the latter events of my life, which will account for my being on board

the Salee rover which your gallantry sent to destruction; though far

rather would I have sunk unknown amid those drowning wretches, whose

dying shrieks yet ring in my ear, than risk the safety of one to whom I

am so deeply indebted. You see before you a man who has, throughout

life, been constantly on the point of attaining, as he supposed, wealth

and happiness; when, ere the cup reached his lips, it has been rudely

torn from his grasp, and he has been hurled back to poverty and

wretchedness; yet ever, when least expected, fortune has again shed her

deceitful smile upon him. I was yet young, when, after passing through

many vicissitudes of fortune, I arrived, poor and unknown, on the shores

of India; but I yet retained more than wealth can purchase, the great

ingredient, the first principle of success, an unbroken spirit, full of

hope and confidence. I had learned, I thought, that wealth was the only

certain road to power, and that with power alone could I attain my ends;

for I had deep and bitter wrongs to avenge, and wealth, therefore, I

determined to obtain by every means consistent with my honour. Though

many of the rank in which I was born, would have looked upon mercantile

pursuits as wholly derogatory to their dignity, nameless and unknown, I

laughed at such prejudices; and soon finding means to bring my talents

into notice, I obtained an employment in which I was eminently

successful; when one high in power, who had always borne me a deadly

enmity, arrived in Goa, and would, I felt confident, recognise me

through all the disguises I might assume. I well knew that, were I

discovered, the civil and ecclesiastical power would be brought into

play against me, and the Inquisition, with all its diabolical tortures,

stared me in the face. I fled to China, from which country I was

obliged once more to migrate to the newly-acquired possessions of the

British in India, where my intimate knowledge of the customs and

language of the natives, aiding my own perseverance, enabled me to

acquire, at length, the fortune I sought. I transmitted it by degrees

to England, and having wound up my affairs, I set sail for that country,

intending from thence to make any further arrangements I might deem

advisable; but I was not destined to reach it. The ship which bore me

was wrecked on the coast of Africa, and I, with the few who escaped

death, was made prisoner by a tribe of savages, who retaliated on us a

few of the cruelties their countrymen have experienced from those of our

colour. For upwards of a year I remained in captivity, when I contrived

to get on board a vessel, trading on the coast for gold-dust and ivory,

and bound for Cadiz. We had a prosperous run, and expected in two or

three days to have reached our destination, when a large vessel bore

down upon us, crowded with men. Resistance was hopeless, and flight

impossible; and as she ran alongside, to our horror, we recognised the

costume of the implacable enemies of Spain, the Algerines. The cargo

being taken out of the vessel, she was sunk, the lives of the crew being

spared for the sake of their value as slaves, for which purpose they

were carried to Algiers, and there sold. Any fate appearing to me

preferable to that which they were doomed to suffer, I embraced the

offer the captain of the rover made me of joining his ship, and assuming

the turban, in the secret hope of being ultimately able, by these means,

to make my escape. Whether he suspected me, I know not; but he was

certainly very unwilling to lose the services I was able to afford him

through my knowledge of various languages, and a strict watch was kept

on my movements, so that upwards of another long year passed away

without my being able to effect my purpose. The scenes of horror and

outrage I was doomed to witness, seemed to me as a punishment for my

sins; but, fortunately, we never fell in with a Portuguese vessel, so

that I was guiltless of spilling the blood of any of my countrymen, till

the chief of the pirate crew, mistaking your ship, in the night of the

gale, for a merchantman, determined to give chase, in hopes of finding

you an easy conquest.

"Great, indeed, was my grief, when, on the following morning, we

discovered that you were a man-of-war and a Portuguese; for,

notwithstanding all my persuasions to the contrary, he insisted on

attacking you, declaring, that as you were probably short of hands, you

would fall an easy prey, and that he required a new ship as a consort to

his own. Having once made up his mind, nothing would deter him from his

purpose; and my expostulations causing my faith to be suspected, the

other officers insisted that I should be placed in the most exposed

situation when we boarded, which proved, however, the salvation of my

life. Once or twice my spirits were revived by the hope that we had

missed you; but at length the rovers resolved to cripple you, if

possible, to prevent your escaping, though they found that they had

encountered a far more determined antagonist than they expected. When,

however, some proposed drawing off, or waiting till the sea went down,

to run you on board, it was discovered that two shots had entered

between wind and water, and that the ship was filling fast. Their only

hope of preservation was now to run you on board, although at imminent

risk of destruction to both; but as there was no other alternative, the

purpose was immediately put into execution, and had not the ships

separated so providentially for you at the moment they did, it is

probable either the pirates would have become the masters, or both would

have sunk together."

"No, no, Senhor Mendez, the vile infidels should never have become

masters of this ship while I lived," suddenly exclaimed Captain Pinto:

"say, rather, we should all have been food for fish, had not the rover,

by the favour of the saints, sunk when she did: but I beg your pardon

for interrupting you."

"I have little more to add," returned Senhor Mendez, "except to express

my joy at finding, on my recovery, that you were the victors. I must

beg, too, that even what I have now mentioned regarding myself may not

pass your lips; for surmises, with the slightest clue, may lead to

inquiries, and my secret be discovered."

Both his auditors assured him that what he had said should be

inviolable. "Thanks, sirs, thanks," he answered. "I have exerted

myself to give this sketch of my adventures, to remove any suspicions

you might have entertained regarding me, the thought of which I could

not endure, and now weariness overpowers me;" saying which, he sunk

back, and appeared to slumber.